


Too Darn Hot

by Blake



Series: Cole Porter 30-day challenge [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blake/pseuds/Blake
Summary: For someone who doesn’t keep many possessions at all and hates making promises of any kind, Han gets jealous stupidly easy.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker/Han Solo
Series: Cole Porter 30-day challenge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610263
Comments: 4
Kudos: 107





	Too Darn Hot

Han told them it wasn’t a good idea to send Luke back to Tatooine. He’s worn a groove in the Falcon with all his pacing before they even arrive. Once they finally land, it’s two whole days of nervous rambling about the mysterious person they’re supposed to meet there and who might catch them instead. The reason they made Luke go is that he’s supposed to be able to blend in, look like just another farm boy from Tatooine. But Han _knew_ he’d be a fucking mess, and that’s why he’d insisted on being the one to take him on this godforsaken mission on this hellish planet.

He also maybe thought he’d get laid, like he has on pretty much all the other missions he’s gone on with Luke, but it’s not looking like that’s in his cards this time around.

“This is the place I remember seeing Old Ben for the first time,” Luke tells them, pointing at a shack that looks just like all the other shacks here. A few hours later, pointing at a shack that looks somehow less reputable than all the other shacks, he asks, “Do you think Obi-Wan ever went there?” Obi-Wan _this_ , Obi-Wan _that_. It’s like the place is a map of his life’s intersections with Obi-Wan’s.

“Hey.” Han slows to a stop and points his hands in at the chest, buried in the sweltering linen robes he’s reluctantly wearing. “I’m the one who got you off this planet.” The suns are midway up the sky and making him sweat out all his intelligent thoughts. Luke stops and stares at him, everything but his mouth-wateringly watery blue eyes lost in the folds of his own disguise. Han feels kind of pinned to the spot, trying to figure out whether Luke is looking at him like that because he’s taking the time to acknowledge that Han rescued him or because he’s realizing he never wanted to leave Tatooine in the first place. Maybe Han is the figure in his life that plucked him out from his happy peasant life, the thief of his innocence. “Didn’t realize you were so nostalgic about it,” he tacks on, folding his arms.

At this point, Chewie leaves them to go get a drink. 

Luke rolls his eyes, and then they’re back on the hunt for whoever it is they’re looking for. Han should have paid more attention to their mission briefing, but he was really only here as a glorified, volunteer taxi service so he hadn’t thought the details would be relevant

They head back to the Falcon after a while to use her navigation system. Drenched in sweat and just about panting from the hot dry air, Han sits down at the table with a drink and then can’t get up again, no matter how much cooler it is in here. He sits there for minutes on end, holding the cold glass bottle to his face and listening to Luke going on and on about all the people in town who might recognize him if they get too close. Sometimes he sounds just as young, stupid, and naïve as he did a year ago. Especially when his voice gets soft and hazy and he says, “It’s too bad Obi-Wan isn’t here to disguise us with the Force.”

For someone who doesn’t keep many possessions at all and hates making promises of any kind, Han gets jealous stupidly easy. It’s a character flaw he’s aware of. But awareness doesn’t keep him from mumbling, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve got a thing for older men.”

It gets Luke’s attention, all right. As it should. Luke knows very well just how intimately familiar Han is with his thing for older men. Those blue eyes fix coolly on Han’s, still and pretty enough to send across Han’s sweat-prickly skin. The robe and the hood are gone by now, so Han can see his whole face: the thoughtful clench of his jaw and the glistening pink flush on his face from the heat. The heat looks good on him. 

Luke’s pretty, pale, soft mouth starts to curl into a smirk, and that’s when Han realizes he’s started to lose his own game. That look on that smug face looks too much like he’s just figured out that he’s been accidentally holding out on Han. Which means he thinks that Han wants him more badly than Luke wants _him_ , which is just idiotic. But not as idiotic as _not realizing sooner_ that Han only volunteered for this mission because he assumed sex was part of the deal; it’s not as if he’s noble or interested in saving the universe or fighting the good fight, and Luke _knows_ that.

Han lets that smug look linger on Luke’s sweet face for as long as it takes Luke to saunter across the room. He lets him sit in the delusion that he’s got Han all figured out, lets him watch Han’s legs spread wide and his hand dip between them to thumb over the cock Luke loves to choke on so much, lets him think it’s an unconscious gesture instead of a tease.

Luke braces his hands on the wall beside Han’s head and leans in, putting his mouth within kissing range. With the robes off and his arms up, the smell of his sweat swirls around in Han’s brain, irrationally intoxicating. He wants to pin Luke down and lick him all over. It makes it all the more difficult for Han to say, “I don’t think so, kid,” and turn back to his drink.

Luke doesn’t even have the decency to look disappointed. He laughs, with a confused little wrinkle in his forehead, and shakes the sweaty clumps of his hair out of his eyes. “Why not?” he asks, as if he _knows_ the answer is stupid.

“Because.” Han takes a long moment to suck the last of the liquid out of the bottle. He likes the way Luke’s eyes track the motions. He feels a new trickle of sweat drip down through the hair on his chest and knows he’s in trouble. He puts on his best fake-apologetic grin, and sighs meaningfully. “It’s too damn hot.”

Luke studies him carefully, trying to figure out how serious he is. Whatever he’s thinking, he thinks it fast, because a moment later, there’s a blue-fire blaze as his eyes widen, and Han’s stomach drops. “It won’t be,” Luke murmurs. It’s such an intoxicating promise that Han doesn’t realize what it _won’t be_ until he’s already sinking deep into Luke’s explanation. “I’ll hardly touch you at all. I’ll ride you. You won’t even feel my skin except for where you…” He looks down at Han’s lap and bites his lip before his eyes flash open and drill into Han’s again. It’s moments like these that make Han wonder if there really is something to this whole Force thing, after all. Why else would this cocky, backwoods kid drive him so crazy, make him drown in his own sweat just by looking at him like that. He can visualize it all _too_ well, imagine the twisting muscles of Luke’s back as he worked to get the curve just where he needs it, picture the way Luke’s high voice will break when his breath catches. He _already_ feels pinned to his spot, like some kind of magic is keeping him from fucking up into the friction like he wants to. “…Where you’re inside me,” Luke practically moans, like _he’s_ the one who needs his ass wrapped tight and sweet around Han’s cock.

“Gonna ride me?” Han hisses weakly, trying to grasp at anything like sarcasm just to stay afloat, to not let Luke have him so easy.

He should have known he was just handing Luke more ammunition. “I’ll ride you so good, you won’t even have to break a sweat. You can just lie there and look.” Han imagines looking at his length disappearing inside Luke’s hot, stretched-pink hole, over and over again, in and out, the muscles of Luke’s pale, round cheeks shaking with exertion, and he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to just lie there and take it without participation when it comes down to it, but he’s _more_ than sure that whatever happens, it’ll be worth the sweat and the heat.

Han reaches up and grabs Luke by the chin and brings him close. Luke’s blond eyelashes flutter like the touch feels _good_ , and his face is still so _pink_ —Han has to touch it, rubbing his fingertips over the ever-spreading color, tracing it until he can feel it transform from sunstroke to a needy blush. “The heat looks good on you, kid,” he admits, and then dives in to kiss that geyser-hot mouth.


End file.
